A Long Lost Cause
by Tinstars
Summary: Kurt tries to prove his maturity by asking Blaine some questions about condoms. It goes about as well as can be expected.  Pre-relationship


**A/N**: This silly little thing was for a prompt at the K_B prompt post FOREVER ago, but I got caught up in the excitement of klisses and completely forgot about it. Whoops. But then someone awesome reminded me, so here it is.

**Based on this prompt**: "Kurt reads the pamphlets and goes to Blaine or Burt (or both!) with questions."

* * *

><p>The glossy paper shook in his hands as he gathered the courage to speak. He could feel burn of his cheeks growing steadily under Blaine's pointed gaze.<p>

"So, which part is giving you trouble?" Blaine's voice was calm and soft and wonderful.

Kurt hummed a nonsensical reply as his fingers crushed the bottom of the pamphlet.

Why had he thought this was a good idea? What had possibly possessed him to get himself into this situation?

"Just take your time. I'm here as long as you need me," Blaine assured him.

Right. This was to show Blaine that he had a different perspective on sex now, and that he wanted to be healthy and informed and that yes, he actually _was_capable of holding a conversation about…adult matters.

He chanced a quick glance up through his eyelashes. All he could see were Blaine's lips, lightly flushed and parted just so - the epitome of sensuality. Suddenly he was imagining Blaine saying "sultry" and "sensual" over and over again until an unnaturally high squeak interrupted his thoughts. Then he realized that he had produced said squeak.

The situation was quickly escalating from uncomfortable to mortifying.

He cleared his throat and tried to speak again, but the only sound that escaped his lips was a pathetic sigh. This probably had something to do with the fact that he was sitting in front of the boy he loved, holding a paper with an explicit illustration of human genitalia, for the sake of appearing more mature than he felt.

Blaine just kept up that warm, encouraging smile, sitting a respectable distance from the bed, being completely kind and gentlemanly. So darn perfect it made Kurt's chest ache.

His resolve strengthened, encouraged by Blaine's open, relaxed demeanor. He could do this. He just had to lower his personal expectations a little bit. Full sentences, good riddance.

"This," he blurted out, pointing to one of the condom-application diagrams. He couldn't quite grasp the mechanics of what was happening in the illustration.

Blaine leaned forward to see, his dark eyebrows furrowing in thought as he studied the picture.

"That part?" Blaine pointed without touching the paper, but somehow managed to brush whisper-soft against Kurt's finger. A slow, aching shiver started at the base of his spine and inched up his back. He stayed frozen in place until Blaine sat back down.

"Yes," Kurt finally replied, nearly breathless. "That part."

He was sure that the blush now reached his toes. There was a hint of concern in Blaine's eyes, but thankfully he didn't seem to feel it necessary to point out Kurt's glowing cheeks this time around. Kurt hated to wear his embarrassment so blatantly in front of Blaine. It made him feel so vulnerable.

"Okay, that's pretty easy." Blaine shifted in the chair. "Maybe I can just show you."

A thick intake of breath. Kurt could practically hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. His eyes inadvertently roamed over the inseam of Blaine's pants, up toward his crotch. Blaine's eyes widened in realization.

"No!" He waved his arms emphatically. "I didn't mean it like that! I was going to demonstrate on something _else_."

Despite the clarification, Kurt's heart kept fluttering wildly.

Blaine glanced around the room. "I wonder if there's anything…"

Kurt's eyes flickered toward the floor. There was probably something useful in the kitchen, but he wasn't about to start categorically listing all the phallic objects in his household.

He noticed that Blaine was looking in his direction with an air of suspicion, and followed his gaze. It took a moment to realize that Blaine was staring at one of his dresser drawers. It took another moment to realize that Blaine had thought he'd been staring at the drawer.

Oh no, he didn't think-

Blaine glanced at his face, then back at the drawer, studying both carefully in turn.

A nervous jolt hit Kurt right in the stomach. He had a sudden, burning urge to yell, "NO BLAINE I DO NOT HAVE ANY DILDOS," but something told him that he wouldn't be doing himself any favors.

He had to move the discussion along quickly.  
>"What about the other part?"<p>

Blaine appeared to be too wrapped up in his own thoughts to answer right away. After a moment he responded, head cocked to the side in a silent question. "What? Oh, the condom? I've got that covered. There's a box in my car."

A hundred questions flew through Kurt's head, none of which could ever be spoken out loud. Blaine seemed to sense his alarm and tried to clarify.

"I just picked some up on my way here because I thought we might need them."

Kurt's jaw dropped in a soft gasp. His heart fell out at some point between _scandalized_ and _yes okay maybe I do want that_.

Blaine stuttered and shook his head. "I-I mean, in case we needed to practice!"

Kurt's expression didn't change.

"Um, I mean, in case I needed to show you-" He stopped himself and took a deep breath, letting out a small, aggravated grunt. "Maybe I should just try to explain it without the props."

When Kurt's brain came back on line, he closed his gaping mouth and managed a stiff nod.

Blaine exhaled and shifted his weight. "Okay. So. First, the condom is rolled up, right? You have to pinch the top, and roll it over the…"

He stopped suddenly, hands frozen in a mid-air demonstration. His mouth opened a few times, but he said nothing.

He coughed and tried again. "…roll it over the…"

The hue of his cheeks grew noticeably darker.

"…the…um…"

Kurt had never seen him so flustered before. Apparently, while Blaine had no problem discussing sex as a broad topic, he was incapable of naming the basic anatomy out loud.

After struggling with words for a few more painful moments, Blaine continued, relying on hand gestures by way of explanation.

"You slowly roll it down, and then you're ready," he said, coughing a bit at the end. He looked as though he was surprised by his own embarrassment.

He took a moment to breathe, and a heavy silence filled the air. Kurt still had questions, but found that it was completely impossible to focus on putting them into words when Blaine looked so adorably disoriented.

"So," Blaine started. He met Kurt's eyes for one fleeting moment before going a deeper shade of red and turning his attention to the floor. "Did that answer your question?" His voice was soft and shy, and it made Kurt wish that it was possible to hug someone's words.

Kurt considered his answer, drumming his fingers lightly against his knee. He didn't want to lie, but there was only so much of this his heart (and pride) could take.

At the same time, Blaine's discomfort was more than a little fascinating. Kurt could sense a shift in their dynamic, and he couldn't help wanting to press it just a bit further.

He took another deep breath.

"Why do you have to pinch it?" He tried to keep his breathing even, but it was extremely difficult. His pulse was racing.

Blaine licked his lips absentmindedly and Kurt was so distracted by all the shades of pink happening on Blaine's face that his perception of time became entirely skewed. It could've just been a small pause before Blaine started talking, or it could've been an hour. Kurt didn't know, and as long as Blaine was still blushing, he didn't really care.

"Well, you don't want to trap any air." Blaine's words came slower, like he was piecing them together with care. "But it's designed to leave room for…"

A deep guttural sound came from Blaine's throat as he faltered over the words.

"…room for the…"

Blaine's face was essentially glowing. The more shameless part of Kurt's mind was gleefully assigning names to the colors painting his face and lips. Coral. Sultry pink. Dalton red.

"…the semen!" Blaine exclaimed, much too loud in the space of Kurt's room. A momentary look of pride on his face was quickly replaced with one of utter shock. His eyes fixed on something over Kurt's shoulder.

Kurt was familiar with his particular brand of luck. He didn't have to turn around to know that his dad was standing in the doorway behind him.

No one said a word. When Kurt finally did turn around, his dad was staring at the ceiling.

Burt cleared his throat. "Just wanted to know if your friend was planning on staying for dinner. Carole's picking up groceries." He somehow managed to stare pointedly in Blaine's direction without looking him in the eyes.

Blaine's mouth closed slowly, the muscles in his jaw flexing with an anxious spasm. "I – yeah. Yes. That'd be great, thank you."

Burt took a small step closer, giving the room a blatant visual sweep. "Alright." He backed away and put his hand on the doorframe.

"Thanks," Blaine blurted out again nervously.

Burt gave a quick nod. "Yeah."

One last approving glance led Kurt to believe that he had noticed the pamphlets, though he left the door open much wider when he walked out.

Blaine's hands were clasped in a muzzle of shame around his mouth. His eyes darted up apologetically, in all their gorgeous warmth, so much easier to read this time around. They were saying "what just happened", "oh god" and "I'm so sorry", in that order.

Kurt sighed. At the very least, he could take comfort in the fact that the evening could not possibly get any more awkward.

"Thanks for helping me," he said, shifting his legs. "I think I understand it now."

Blaine took a moment to compose himself. He straightened his back and breathed out heavily. "Good. That's good."

He gave Kurt a short glance, looking vaguely guilty. "Um, any other questions I could help you with?"

Kurt contemplated the possibility of continuing their talk. At least a little part of this was due to his desire to see Blaine's cheeks sustain that fantastic rosy color. "I think I'll be fine. For now."

After all, he didn't want to break Blaine's brain. He liked Blaine's brain. He liked Blaine's everything.

"I could help in the kitchen?" Blaine offered, gesturing towards the door.

"Great, sure," Kurt breathed out. "But you might have to wait a while. Until Carole gets home."

Blaine's cheeks reddened once again. "Right."

They both glanced down, surveying the carpet in a way that had little to do with admiring the immaculate state of Kurt's floor.

"I, um…" Blaine started.

"Yes?" Kurt responded, much faster than necessary.

Blaine brushed his thumb over his knuckles and rocked his hips a little bit. "I've had this strange urge to watch The Music Man lately."

And suddenly, it was like the glorious rays of Musical Theater had burst through the heavy clouds of the Awkward Sex Talk. Kurt grinned wide. "Not strange at all."

Blaine returned Kurt's grin in kind and pushed himself off the chair. "Which one do you want to watch? Robert Preston or…"

"Kristin Chenoweth," they said in unison.

"She's so talented, I could _die_. It's obscene." Kurt felt his heartbeat rise again as they made their way quickly down the stairs.

Happy-tingles soon replaced the nervous-tingles, spreading from his chest to his limbs with every step. The feeling was amplified by the scent of Blaine's cologne wafting back towards him in a rush of air. His eyes were fixated on the few loose curls at the base of Blaine's neck as he bounded down the stairs, and stumbled on the last step.

He couldn't say exactly what had happened, but it seemed that a couple of toes on his right foot suffered the focus of all his weight at once. For a moment, all he could feel was a sharp stab of pain through a dizzying haze and he braced his hand against the wall, trying to balance on one foot. Blaine's voice soon came into focus, as well as the solid pressure of Blaine's arm snaking around his back to hold him up.

"Oh my god! Kurt, are you okay? Are you hurt?"

As if his heart wasn't already going a million miles an hour, the concern in Blaine's voice made Kurt feel like he had serious vertigo. He breathed in deep, trying not to whimper on the exhale, and paused for a moment as the initial shock started to subside. Using Blaine for support, he took a tentative step with his injured foot. It was painful, but bearable.

"I'm fine," he answered through gritted teeth. He'd seen enough injuries during his Cheerios stint to have a frame of reference for this. He would live. He tried to ease himself away from Blaine's hold, which was starting to make matters worse, but Blaine wouldn't budge. His adorably thick eyebrows were drawn up in worry, and seeing his eyes so close nearly knocked the wind out of Kurt.

Burt came in from the garage, rushing over when he noticed the commotion. "What's the matter?" he asked, sounding a little frantic. His gaze swept from Kurt's foot to Blaine's the placement of Blaine's hands.

"Dad, I'm fine." Kurt's voice was still slightly breathless. "Really. I just got distracted and tripped."

Burt paused and studied the scene in front of him more carefully. "Distracted…" he repeated slowly, with a look of apprehension. "You sure you're alright?"

Kurt pushed gently against Blaine, desperate to get away from the warmth and the touching and the smells that were clouding his head and making him feel disoriented in collusion with the pain. Blaine's arm slipped away and he stepped back, arms out, prepared to catch Kurt if he fell again.

As much as Kurt missed the weight of Blaine against him, he was glad to be able to think more clearly.

"I'm just going to get some water," he decided, mostly to prove that he could. He took a few steps toward the kitchen, walking on the side of his foot even though he knew it was a terrible solution. He lurched forward into the kitchen, and wasn't surprised to find Blaine immediately at his side again, ready to help him walk. Seriously, there was such a thing as being too much of a gentleman.

"I've got it, Blaine," he said, clutching the countertop. Since Blaine obviously wanted to be helpful, Kurt decided to keep him busy, and hopefully get a moment of peace in the process. "Do you think you could set up the movie?"

Blaine looked like he was going to suggest something else, so Kurt interrupted with a "Please?", and what he hoped was an irresistible pout.

Blaine glanced down at his foot one more time before he agreed with a small "okay", and left. Kurt sighed heavily once Blaine was out of earshot. He'd had absolutely no idea that there were _so many_ different ways he could embarrass himself in the span of an evening.

His father entered the kitchen while he was still leaning against the counter, face buried in his hands. Kurt pulled himself together quickly and hobbled over to grab a glass from the cupboard. He felt the chill of the refrigerator being opened, and heard the pop of a can. His father was looking at him with a familiar expression, as though he was trying to figure Kurt out. After a stretch of silence, Burt tapped his forehead.

"Did I ever tell you how I got this scar?" he asked with a small smile on his face.

"I'm not sure." Kurt made his way to the water filter and filled the glass slowly, careful not to spill any on the floor. The last thing he needed was another fall. "I assume it involves the phrase 'glory days' and football."

Burt chuckled softly and tilted his head down, looking strangely vulnerable. This made Kurt's ears perk up quickly.

"It was a couple weeks after me and your mom started dating. She wanted to go for a walk in the park and dragged me along. I was…well, long story short, I was so busy staring at her the whole time, I walked right into a tree."

"Mmm." Kurt did his best to sound aloof, even though hearing about his mother always opened a wealth of emotions in his heart. "That sounds about right. Why are you telling me now?"

He knew why, of course. He wasn't dumb. At the same time, he was intrigued by his dad's methods of father-son bonding.

His dad just smiled knowingly and clapped his hand on Kurt's shoulder as he walked out of the kitchen.

"Be careful on those steps, Kurt. They're tricky."

Kurt watched as his father left, and took a slow sip of his water.

Walking was much more bearable now that he could actually focus on balancing his weight. Clutching the drink carefully, he walked to the living room, where Blaine had arranged a stool and several pillows for Kurt's comfort. Blaine sprung up immediately and helped Kurt to the couch, taking the glass from his hand and setting it down on the side table.

"Blaine, I'm not broken," Kurt reprimanded gently, though he allowed Blaine to take his hand as he lowered himself onto the cushion. For support, of course. Blaine fussed with the pillows silently and Kurt felt his stomach flutter, especially when Blaine reached across his legs to make sure his foot was safely perched on the stool.

Watching Blaine tend to him, he couldn't help wonder what exactly was motivating his behavior. Why he'd suddenly gotten so embarrassed earlier, and why his concern for Kurt's well-being seemed to run so deep. Blaine had made his feelings, or lack there-of, pretty clear. Hadn't he?

But then Blaine was leaning back and smiling at him, eyes warm and happy. No, Blaine was just nice. Incredibly nice. And caring and sweet, and maybe a little less confident than he led people to believe, but just enough to make him seem human. Human, but still out of reach. Blaine grabbed the remote from the coffee table and pressed play.

Kurt sighed and let his shoulders relax against the couch, feeling anxious, lightheaded and ridiculously in love.


End file.
